A little breakfast for the soul. Continue reading
Month: June 2016
Saturday Promenade
One of these days I suppose these early morning walks will lose their sense of wonder and amazement, of discovery and excitement, even when treading the same familiar paths.
Until that time you’ll just have to endure my endless attempts at creating a vicarious online experience of it all to share with the world in hopes that someday someone will come join us. Continue reading
Wake Up Call
Time.
“Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.”
So begins the song of that name by Pink Floyd.
Time. Wasting time. By some people’s standards I waste a LOT of time. Maybe they’re right. Continue reading
Sunday Morning
Sunday, June 5, 2016 was gray and drizzly. We still took our usual walk down Beersville Road and back around the property and the meadow.
Something about the light on overcast days enchants me as much or perhaps more than on those glorious shining bright days where the colors pop so vividly. I think it’s because it requires me to look even more closely at what I’m seeing and take my time to be fully in the moment and savor the subtlety of the many shades of green and the other colors that are overwhelmed by the preponderance of green—did I mention the green?—the yellows, and blues, and pinks, and purples, and more. The more you look, the more you see.
And as usual, this video is also a story of me trying to take photos while wrangling the expert photo bomber aka George, and tapping into his excited and energetic experience of the greatest of all pursuits: Walkies!
The Sacred & The Mundane
June begins.
Another phone app generated attempt to share this morning’s ambulatory excursion around the little corner of Pennsylvania we call Happy Hollow.
Memorial Day
My Memorial Day
Walking in the rain at dawn
on a sleepy Monday
along Beersville Road.
Remembering the fallen
and my father
who would be 85 on Wednesday—
If he were still here…
He is still here—
while new verdant life abounds
all around me
and George tugs and pulls
and engages everything. Continue reading